


From Guard to Prisoner

by VenomQuill



Series: Stickmin Collection fics [2]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: But nothing overly explicit, Gen, He's imprisoned and some abuse of power is mentioned, Henry Stickmin - Freeform, Like Reginald or Right Hand Man, Like honestly give this guy a break please, Minor Swearing, So Dave has the absolute worse luck of literally any character, everyone else is just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26395519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: Dave Panpa was just a regular recruit in the police force, eager to do a good job. Then a prisoner by the name of Henry Stickmin escaped probably due to Dave's negligence with a package. Well, that was okay because he quickly got a new job as a nightguard for a museum. Unfortunately, that did not go to plan, either. But as long as he had his optimism, everything was going to be okay.
Series: Stickmin Collection fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983670
Comments: 15
Kudos: 100





	From Guard to Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Find it on dA: [From Guard to Prisoner](http://fav.me/de4wymw)

Dave had never considered himself to be special. He was optimistic by nature and a hard worker. He wanted to do his job right, a job which he loved. Well, jobs, plural. He had only been in the police force a few weeks before a prisoner escaped right under their nose because of his negligence. But he wasn’t the moping type, and quickly found himself working as a nightguard in a museum… which was also broken into. By the same man whom he inadvertently helped escape, no less! Unfortunately, during the investigation of the missing diamond, he stumbled across the true nature of Mayor Fredrickson. Curious, he committed the worst mistake of his life: he tried to be a good person and do his job. Well, the mayor had not been embezzling funds, but he _had_ been planning a heist for some people from some criminal group. Just as Dave had gotten the solid evidence, a man in a top hat–well, a few men–caught him and that was it. Despite the gun he held, not one man fell. He was disarmed, pinned to the floor, and clocked upside the head.

Now, Dave was in an unfamiliar cell; red and smooth with a door missing a handle and bars for a window. Aching terribly in his head and bones and pretty much everything else, he quickly went to investigate his surroundings. Someone entered the space that held his cell and stopped upon seeing him awake.

“Huh. Awake already,” the man mused, an American accent carrying his words rather than the English or Italian ones the others had claimed. A top hat, this one black with a medium rim but very short top, approached his cell. “You will be here for a rather long time, I’m afraid.”

Dave’s blood turned to ice. “Wh-why?”

“You see, Mr. Panpa, You interfered with our plans,” the man said, somehow being both respectful and condescending. “We don’t like that.”

“…who are you?”

“We are the Toppats,” the man boasted. “And you are a prisoner. Goodbye, _nightguard._ ” With that, the man was gone.

“Pssst!”

Dave turned to his right wall. “What?”

“Your name’s Dave, new guy?”

Dave nodded, though he knew the action was lost to the prisoner on the other side of the metal barrier. “Yeah. Who are you?”

“I’m a policeman,” the man said. “Lost my hat, but I kept my badge.”

Dave perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Gets pretty lonely; the Toppats don’t usually visit me outside of meals or because they’re frustrated and want to take it out on someone or something because they’re bored and have nothing better to do than mock me. Apparently, they’re some _big happy family_ so pissing off fellow members is a big no-no.”

“Oh. That… oh no.” Dave tensed and looked to the door.

“Meh. They don’t normally come around here. Don’t bother with the door. It’s made of metal and can only be opened from the outside.”

“Don’t Toppats sometimes accidentally lock themselves in here or something?”

“Nope. Well, it happened once, but someone went looking for him and he got out quickly enough. You in the end? I’m on the end by that fancy looking door.”

Dave looked to the bars on the door. A memory of his partner in the police force, Rupert Price, came to mind. The man enjoyed mocking prisoners almost as much as he enjoyed hunting them down. Dave had never agreed with Rupert on that; the prisoners were already down on their luck and had no way to defend themselves. No need to add insult to injury.

Well, now _Dave_ was a prisoner and at the mercy of some Toppat version of Rupert. They were a clan of thieves, so it was probably worse. After all, there were few things a thief or criminal hated more than authority. Unluckily for Dave, he was authority. Used to be. “So, how did you get in here?”

“The traditional way; tasered and then clubbed and dragged here,” the policeman said with a nonchalant puff. “Oh, wait. You mean why. Yeah, I was guarding a Toppat prisoner and he decided he didn’t like my face or something? Or maybe it was because I was an asshole to him. Eh, whatever. Anyway, get comfortable. Unless God decides we’re worthy, we’re going to be here for a _long_ time.”

Dave sighed and slumped down on his bed against the wall. They weren’t barbaric enough to deny him a bed, at least. Or toilet. With the nice red coloring of his cell, this was probably a step up from the prison he had been guarding. Unless he wasn’t allowed to go out into a prison yard, which he probably wasn’t. Then it might be a step down. At least he wasn’t going to be getting into any fights with other prisoners! That was always a good thing. John Grits always told him breaking up fights between inmates was the worst. Though, Dave’s only other prisoner was a former policeman.

The days were long. In the morning and evening–never the afternoon–a top hat wearing guy, or girl on occasion, would come in and slide a tray of food into a slot under the door. Strangely, this wasn’t the same half-assed attempt at cooking the prison had for its inmates. Instead, it looked like actual food. Were they being nice or…?

“Pfft. Look at you. High and mighty guard dog all chained up like the misbehaving little bitch you really are.”

Dave grimaced, not looking at the window-bars of his cell. A repeat offender leaned on his door.

“How’s it feel to be a prisoner, huh?” the man went on. When Dave still didn’t turn around, he whistled. “Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you, guard dog.”

Dave reluctantly turned around. The man at his cell was rather tall with a hat that was just a few shades lighter than navy blue. A scar ran from just above his right eyebrow down his face and just above the right side of his mouth. Somehow, his left eye where the scar ran over was just as clear as his right. Dave asked, “Yeah?”

“I asked you a question, answer it,” the man ordered, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Dave tried to look away but decided against it. “…not good.”

“Heh. That’s what I thought. Funny you guard types get so excited over locking people up, but whine and complain like babies when the same happens to you.” The man lost his smile and turned to the door. He scoffed and pushed himself away so he stood up straight.

The door opened, revealing a woman with a slightly taller black top hat. “Wallace? What are you doing here?” Though she was asking a question, there was no surprise in her tone.

“Checking on the prisoners,” Wallace answered. “Making sure these doors are working properly. Don’t give me that look, Katie!”

Katie scoffed, “I can give you whatever look I want, Dagwood. You’re taunting the prisoners again, aren’t you?”

“What? No, I–”

“Go help Benjamin and Matthew with the new shipment in the bay.”

“Katie, I–”

“I’m not afraid to tell Chief Reginald that you’re slacking!”

“Fine, fine! No need to get snippy. Jeez. I’m not slacking.” Wallace’s complaints faded as he walked away.

Cool Katie turned to Dave and walked up to his cell. Dave didn’t look away. This woman had to be less cruel than Wallace, right? “Just because we locked you up doesn’t mean Wallace gets to be an asshole. He can take his smack talk to a raid and get locked up again. So, dinner might be delayed, or you might not get it. We had a little trouble from our biggest supplier.”

“Thanks,” Dave responded. “That… was nice of you.”

“I’m a cool person,” Katie admitted with a shrug. “Hey, police guy! Did you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Well, I got things to do.” With that, Cool Katie was gone.

Dave looked down at his lap. Just like at the prison, there were the good guards and the bad guards. Dave had been eager to get his career going and had sorely hoped he could be a good guard. But being paired with Rupert had disillusioned him a little, and then getting fired hurt him worse. Though, he’d take being never rehired again over being a Toppat prisoner for the rest of his life.

…he wasn’t going to be here for the rest of his life, was he? He hoped not.

Dave thought being a prisoner couldn’t get any worse. But he was wrong, oh so wrong.

“Hey, police guy!” a voice only slightly familiar to him called. _Bang, bang!_ The sound of him kicking the door rang through the compact room. Dave’s eyebrows contracted. They… didn’t normally do that. Then, for the first time Dave since before he arrived here, he heard the _click_ of a lock and the door open.

“Police guy? …dammit. Aaaaagh, God dammit! Whatever. Gotta tell the chief and fill out _so much paperwork._ Why couldn’t you have died during the next shift?”

Dave jumped to his feet and ran to the bars of his cell. “Dead?”

“Guess he just stopped eating, stupid bastard,” the man mumbled. “All skin and bones. Whatever.” With that, the Toppat crewmember left.

Dave called, “Police guy? Can you hear me?”

…

“Come on, please? Answer me?”

…

“I can’t do this without you, man! I can’t be alone!”

…

“Please answer me! Police guy, come on! Answer me!”

But police guy did not answer him. Dave watched as a few more of the criminals filed into the room and away Dave’s only source of positive attention went. Dave’s eyes stung seeing the sight. He remembered there being a wheeze in the man’s voice the past couple of days but hadn’t thought anything of it. But the top hat crewmember was right. His weathered clothes hung off his thin body a few sizes too large. His head lolled in the man’s grip, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape, his chest undisturbed by the inflation and deflation of his lungs.

Dave’s legs felt weak. He put a hand over his mouth, but it wasn’t enough, and he barely made it to the toilet quick enough to vomit without getting it all over the floor. Having had breakfast hours ago, there was hardly anything in him and he ended up having to spend some long, tortuous minutes dry heaving and spitting out saliva mixed with stomach acid.

When his shivering body had finally had enough, Dave wiped off his mouth and collapsed in his bed.

He was alone.

Dave shut his eyes. No, no. this couldn’t be it. Dave had to be optimistic. Sure, new his friend was dead, but… but Dave was alive. That was good. Wallace had stopped tormenting him. That was good. Dave was still getting food. That was good. Dave was… was… God, he was never going to escape. He was going to die here in this–

No. No, Dave wouldn’t. He was going to be okay.

“Hey, Guard-dog! Your cop friend isn’t here to comfort you, anymore.”

Dave didn’t move to acknowledge his tormentor. His dark eyes were on his lap, as were his hands, loose and unmoving.

“Heh. Must suck to be all alone. By yourself, seeing nothing but the empty walls of your cell.”

Dave shut his eyes.

“I know what that’s like. To be confined. All alone. Sentenced to be in solitary for weeks because of guard bitches like _you._ ”

A tinge of pain took Dave’s heart. No matter how much he tried to resist, he felt… pity. Dave had been here for weeks, now. In fact, he had been in this little cell for so long he lost track. Was that what prisoners in solitary confinement really felt?

“Well, you’re _never_ getting out. Say hello to your imaginary friends for me, would you? Heh. Unless you buckle and starve yourself first like that weak, stupid cop.”

“He wasn’t weak,” Dave croaked, unable to put strength behind his words.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wallace perk up. “Yeah he was. If he wasn’t, he’d still be here to coddle you. But he starved himself because he was too _weak_ to face reality. When are you going to do the same, guard dog?”

“…”

“Pfft. Guess only time will tell, huh? Whatever.”

Dave heard the door open and then close.

The former nightguard sighed and shut his eyes. He was hopeless, wasn’t he?

Dave took a deep breath. “I’m alive. That is good.” He held one finger out. “They’re still giving me food. That is good.” He held up another finger. “I’m eating because I get hungry and want food. That is good.” He held out a third finger. “Sometimes, there are Toppats that see me and don’t bully me. That is good.” He held out a fourth finger. “I am still sane; I haven’t gone crazy. That is good.” His thumb poked out so all the fingers on his right hand were splayed.

Dave closed his fist and repeated his mantra. He always used his right hand, his dominant hand. He still had control of himself and what he did. He had a dominant hand, a preferred way of eating, times when he would or would not talk. That is because Dave had control of some parts of his life, even as a prisoner, even when _they_ controlled everything else.

Dave didn’t know how long he was in the brig when something changed. Rather, something happened that wasn’t normal.

A loud _clang_ marked the collision of metal on metal. Dave jumped up and rushed to his bars. Above him, the catwalk had broken, so most of it that was above the brig was gone. An unfamiliar voice whispered swears as each time he swiped a card through the card reader, it buzzed at him.

Another body slammed into the ground near Dave’s cell. This one was a scrappy guy, slightly worn and dirty, but standing with strength and staring at whomever desperately tried to get through the door with intensity. Wait… did… did Dave recognize that face? No, it couldn’t be. He couldn’t…

The man pulled what looked like a rocket launcher out of nowhere and pointed it at the ground inches from his feet. It went off with a loud _Pop!_ and up the man flew. He landed rather loudly on whatever was left of the catwalk and somersaulted through the door, which had opened only seconds prior to his landing.

Dave heard a clamor as the two ran, but it was gone soon enough with the door shut behind him.

Knowing that nothing else was going to happen–or assuming so because who knew–Dave paced. He didn’t recognize the voice of the person attempting to get through the door. It was an English accent, but many crew members held those. Normally, “brig duty” rotated, thrown from person to person like a hot potato. But despite this, he had never seen nor heard this man. That brought him to the second one. Was that Henry Stickmin? _The_ Henry that escaped from prison and stole that diamond? What was he doing chasing down a _thieving criminal?_ Well, there were wars between rival gangs, sure, but Henry was solo, as far as they could tell. How did he even hope to take down an entire airship on his own? Or, was he with–

No, that was too much to hope for. Henry couldn’t be with the police, or government of any sort. This had to be at the behest of a fellow criminal. Henry could have joined a criminal organization after his escape. Maybe his theft of the diamond was for whatever organization he now took to?

Well, if Henry truly was part of the government, now, Dave would be free. Dave could be free! But, no. That was too much to hope for. Still, Dave could be optimistic.

Dave continued to pace until his legs hurt, his mind buzzing with possibilities. It had been a while after he saw Henry, so the possibility of him being with the governm–

“Attention everyone!” one of the Toppat crewmembers called over the announcement speakers. “This is an announcement. Do not panic, but our previous Chief Reginald has been arrested by Henry Stickmin. As his second-in-command, Right Hand Man will be our new boss. All raids will be on hold until he is fit for duty. Sven Svensson will temporarily pilot the airship. Thank you.”

Dave’s eyebrows furrowed and he plopped down on the bed. So that _had_ been Henry. That new voice was… oh he couldn’t remember. But Dave _had_ seen Sven a few times. He was the only blue-eyed blonde Dave had ever seen and Sven sported a permanent look of annoyance–though that was probably because he was on brig duty–and rarely spoke to Dave.

Wait. Henry arrested Chief Reginald. Henry was working with the government. They had to know Dave was here! They were going to rescue him!

Dave took a deep breath and shut his eyes. “Everything will turn out okay. It’ll be great. The government will find out where I am and then I’ll be free. I can go back home. I-I might not go back to being a nightguard right away, but maybe I could become a soldier o-or go back into the force. It’ll be great. Everything will turn out okay.”

He smiled and held out his right fist. “I am alive. That is good. They are still feeding me. That is good…”

But… things weren’t always to plan.

A person in a top hat approached the door. Dave turned away. He hated looking into their eyes, at looking at them in general. For as long as he saw them, he knew he was trapped. For as long as they knew he was listening, they would taunt him. They would tear him down, make him feel defeat, try to break him. But he wouldn’t be broken. He could feel his spirit being crushed. Slowly, every day that passed he felt that weight become heavier and heavier. He felt their words penetrate his mind and try to tear it open. But he wouldn’t let that happen. He still had things to live for. He still had hope. For as long as he had hope, he would be okay.

Some words were said that Dave did not hear. The _click_ of a lock being opened cut through his thoughts like a hot poker through butter. He spun around as the door opened. More light than he’d seen in so long poured into his room. But it was broken, partially blocked by Wallace.

Dave sucked in his breath as he felt a hand grab him by the collar of his ratty shirt and dragged him forward. “Hey! Have you gone deaf? Answer me!” Wallace barked.

Dave winced and shrunk back. Still, he kept one eye open and looking at the man.

The man relaxed a little. “You’ve been here a while, guard dog. You thought that Henry bastard was going to help you, didn’t you? You thought the government was going to come in here and arrest us, right? They followed you and took our leader, almost killed his second, _didn’t you?_ ”

Dave gulped and shook his head. “N-no…”

“Why else would they be here?” Wallace growled, his molten gaze burning a hole through Dave. When Dave didn’t immediately answer, he was shoved into the back wall. He hit the metal wall with his head so hard stars burst into his vision. He grabbed Wallace’s wrist and forearm. “Answer me, guard dog!” Wallace spat.

Dave managed to wheeze, “I don’t… know, I…” He gagged as the Toppat crewmember’s fist closed harder, tightening Dave’s collar until he couldn’t breathe. He gagged and put all the strength and force he could muster into pushing Wallace back. He struggled and kicked at the ground and smacked at the man’s arm and hand and face and chest, but nothing he did relieved the pressure on his throat. Staying so long in the tiny place, no matter his pacing, had weakened his arms and he was no longer as strong as he had been when he was stationed in the dark museum.

Then, just as the pain in Dave’s chest started to numb, Wallace let go.

Dave collapsed, his back to the wall, a hand to his chest. He gasped merciful gulps of air. He could feel the tears that once gathered in his eyes spill over his cheek.

“This is your fault!” Wallace spat. “You will _never_ leave here. We may never kill you, either.”

With that, the man stalked out, leaving Dave shaking and breathless.

Dave still sat in his cell. It had been a few weeks. Perhaps it was longer. Was it weeks or was it months? Days? He had long since lost track of time.

“I’m alive. That is good. They’re still giving me food. That is good. I’m eating, because I get hungry and want food. That is good. Sometimes, there are Toppats that see me and don’t bully me. That is good. I am still sane; I haven’t gone crazy. That is good.” His voice broke near the end, but he kept going. “The government is going to help me. That is good. … I’m alive, that is… good…”

Dave gulped and forced himself to keep going. Everything was going to turn out alright. He was going to be saved. He was going to be a free man. They never threatened to kill him, so he was alive. They sometimes “forgot” to deliver his meals, but he was still eating. He went hungry, but sometimes he felt sick. Still, he ate at every opportunity available. Even then they stuck his tray of food so roughly under the door some would spill out. He felt their glares, heard their hatred, but some–very, very few–did no such thing. The kindest of them, Cool Katie, would glare at him every time he looked at her, but at least she was more careful when giving him his food.

The door opened. Dave stopped his chant. Someone approached his door. Dave involuntarily flinched and skittered back. It was not breakfast time or dinner time. If he was lucky, it was just some scrappy, frustrated bastard mourning their defeated leader or hating the new atmosphere and felt like snapping at him. But, if he wasn’t so lucky, he was due for another physical confrontation. Dave knew what would happen to him if he fought back, of course. Wallace was oh so keen to teach him what happened to prisoners like him who struggled against his attacker. Though, what Wallace meant by “prisoners like him,” Dave did not know. Dave was currently the _only_ prisoner.

When the person who approached his door didn’t say anything, the feeling of dread fell into his stomach. He had met the new Chief once and only once. He was a quiet man, but God there was no one he feared more. The cyborg didn’t even touch him, but looking back on it, that might have been a mercy compared to the pure intimidation he commanded as he questioned Dave about where they were taking Reginald.

Dave, of course, had no clue. He had only worked at Red Mesa Penitentiary for a little while, and after that was a nightguard for a museum. If he had a guess, it would be to a prison. If he was particularly dangerous, a federal prison? Right Hand Man left with a huff after that.

The lock opened with a _click_ and Dave winced at the noise.

“Hey?” This voice was softer than he had become accustom to. Still, Dave didn’t look back. He shrunk away from the noise, flinching as he heard footsteps and felt a hand on his shoulder. “Were you a guard?”

Dave meekly nodded.

“Don’t be afraid. We’re here to help you.”

At this, Dave chanced a look back. The door to his cell was opened, revealing a handful of soldiers. One was inside his cell. Standard military uniform with a helmet on his head mostly hiding his dark brown hair. He held a rifle over his shoulder.

For a moment, Dave couldn’t believe his eyes. There were soldiers on the grounded airship. These people were here to help him. These were good guys; guys Dave knew he could trust.

Dave laughed and jumped to his feet. The noise that came from his throat was rough from ill use. “Oh, thank you!”

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” the soldier encouraged, stepping out of the cell to give Dave room.

Dave, shaky on his feet, stumbled out of his prison. He looked around, eyes wide in shock and confusion. Staying stuck in that tiny place for so long, he hardly remembered the world could be so big.

“I’m Ollie. Ollie Andorin. Who are you?”

“D-Dave. Dave Panpa.”

“Well, Dave, let’s get you outside.”

Dave sucked in his breath and froze as they stepped outside. Sunlight, warm and bright, washed over him. Merciful air, full of life and fresh unlike the artificial scent and taste of the inside of the cell, rushed over him, tugging at his ratty clothes and his tattered hat. But up above him, so, _so_ far up, were clouds and a light blue ceiling he knew only as air in an atmosphere protecting them from endless space. God, he had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Ollie led him to where the other soldiers were gathering people. Most of them were injured though some just shaken up; innocent people like curious hikers and bike enthusiasts who had gotten caught in the crossfire.

Standing near them, holding a handgun and looking out for any more Toppats, was a man he once knew from the force. “Rupert?”

The soldiers turned around. “Huh?”

Ollie glanced at him. “You know him? He’s hardly been a soldier for a few weeks.”

“Yeah!” Dave croaked and cleared his throat. “Remember me? F-from Red Mesa Penitentiary! I-I’m Dave. Dave Panpa.”

Rupert’s eyes went wide. “ _Dave?_ What were you–you went missing!”

Dave ran forward, stumbling over himself in the process but managing to stay on his feet. “I got captured by the Toppats when I uncovered the mayor was working with them to steal the diamond. I-I’ve been locked up ever since.”

“You’re the guy that did that? The mayor’s been out of office for a long time. Actually, we found him with the Toppats,” Rupert admitted. “You really need to sit down and get a good meal. Don’t worry, Dave. There’s nothing we can’t handle. You’re safe here.”

_You’re safe here._

Dave took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you. I-I… I just want to go home.”

Rupert gave him a curt nod. “I’ll make it happen, Dave. Just relax. We’re all going home soon.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Escaping the Prison** : Dave Panpa; “He’s new to the force and eager to do a good job!”  
>  **Stealing the Diamond** : Dave Panpa; “He was fired from his previous job for negligence. He bounced back quickly though and found a new job as a security guard.”  
>  **Infiltrating the Airship** : Dave Panpa; “For one reason or another, he’s been captured by the Toppat Clan and now sits in their brig.”  
>  **Completing the Mission** : Dave Panpa; “He’s spent a long time in a Toppat cell. His life will probably never be the same.”
> 
> Dave has to have the worst luck. Literally the only thing going for him is that he is in the most games out of any other background character. He's not seen in "Fleeing the Complex" but that's probably for the best. Right?
> 
> Also, I was planning on making this a "Rapidly Promoted Executive" -> "Ghost Inmate" -> "Toppat Civil War" story where Dave busts out and sorta helps take down the guard that was guarding the brig, but decided against it. Oh, and in the original take of "Infiltrating the Airship," there was a prisoner laying face-down in the cell farthest to the left in the brig. He had blue shoes, so I inferred he was a cop. Because all police wear blue shoes. Obviously. In the revamped version, that prisoner isn't there, but that's probably because the bars were replaced with mostly intact red metal doors.


End file.
